


Thursday Nights

by Harmonyhhr



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Fluff, Librarian Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Professor Crowley, and patrons are crazy, crazy library shenanigans, libraries are about customer service, more fluff in the later chapters because crowley is soft, public library, teen rating is really just for language and intense siutations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmonyhhr/pseuds/Harmonyhhr
Summary: Libraries are no longer quiet, dusty places. They are full of activity, noise, and humanity. Some nights see more action than others, so it's a surprise to public librarian Aziraphale Fell when his slow Thursday night shifts become increasingly more pleasant with the arrival of new patron Anthony Crowley. Aziraphale denies his feelings, Crowley is a cinnamon roll, and typical library chaos ensues.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 182





	1. Cats in the book drop

**Author's Note:**

> Throwing my hat in to the 'library AU' universe, though mine's a bit different from the others I've seen around here. Aziraphale is a public librarian, because he's so good at convincing people to leave his bookshop that I know he'd be fantastic at handling the insanity of library customer service. Being a librarian has given me some of the craziest stories I can tell and at the end of each chapter I'll tell you which tales are true. This AU is based on US libraries.

Aziraphale Fell stared mindlessly at the computer in front of him. He absolutely loved his job as a librarian but some nights were unbelievably, unbearably, frustratingly s...l...o...w.

He wished he’d known Thursday nights were the deadest of the week; it was probably why no one else volunteered to take the shift after Dagon left.

After being turned down for a promotion, Dagon had gone on a vindictive spree against her own department: cancelling children’s programs left and right, shutting down the yearly comic fest everyone worked so hard to put on, and spreading malicious gossip about the person who got the job she wanted. That kind of negativity nearly made the place unbearable to work in but they’d soldiered through and now they had to wait for a new children’s supervisor to come in. Realistically, it would only take about a year...maybe a year and a half.

Two years tops.

A few of his coworkers thought Aziraphale should go for the job, but that was probably based on his appearance alone. He was far too much of a bastard to be a children’s librarian. He’d gladly continue to build an important relationship with the elderly patrons in his community. In him they found a kindred spirit; his dress was old fashioned, his music and movie preferences akin to someone thirty years older, and his computer skills would have been woefully outdated if not for the shift in libraries to take a leading role in bringing technology to their communities. Twice a week he taught basic internet and typing classes to anyone who needed or wanted to learn the skills. It helped keep him up to date as well, a win-win for all parties.

He adored working in a library over working, say, in a bookshop. Just about every book passed through his hands was precious to him and being a librarian meant those books would always (for the most part) return. In a bookshop he’d be forced to sell his treasures and would never know what became of them. It was bad enough he often had to fight the urge to tell patrons to leave the books alone.

His library was the best kind to work in; it had a diverse patron base, as well as an equally diverse staff. He didn’t see much of himself (middle age white guy) in the staff or the patrons, so it was a total surprise to look up from his stupor and find an incredibly attractive man appearing to be close to his own age shifting impatiently from foot to foot in front of the desk.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Thursday night, lost in thought. How may I assist you?” Aziraphale had never seen this man before, and though he wasn’t here 24/7 he was fairly certain someone this good-looking would have been spoken about amongst his coworkers. Even if they didn’t notice his looks, the sunglasses were sure to be a talking point. They were a terribly gossipy bunch and nearly every patron had a nickname.

“’m new to this area. Do you have gardening or landscape design books?” Shades asked, his tone emphasizing the impatience his stance portrayed.

Aziraphale nodded. “We do indeed. Are you looking for something specific or just wanting to browse?”

“Browse.”

“The non-fiction section is directly behind you. Gardening books are in the 635 range, and the shelves are labeled to help you find the correct spot. Landscape design is more in the 712 range. Do you have photo identification with you today?” It always astonished Aziraphale how many people walked around without any sort of identification on them.

“Uh, yes?” Shades was staring at him (he assumed, if the state of the man’s eyebrows were anything to go by) like he’d grown three heads. Must not be much of a library goer.

“Good. If you find something you want to check out just come back to me. We require photo ID to create an account for you.”

Not normally being one to ogle openly, Aziraphale couldn’t help but watch the sinful way the potential patron sauntered away, hips rolling side to side like a pendulum in a pair of very tight black jeans. He realized everything the man wore was black, from the boots on his feet to the jacket draping those slim shoulders. The only pops of color came from the silver scarf tied artfully around his neck, and the shoulder length red tresses pulled halfway up into a bun that made Aziraphale’s fingers itch with the desire to _touch_.

What a terribly unprofessional thought.

“Oh my GOD that man was pretty!” Annette screeched as she took her place next to him in the other reference spot. “If I weren’t already married...” Thankfully she made a crude gesture with her hands instead of saying it out loud.

**_Annette, librarian:_ ** _loudest human being on planet Earth, beloved by all for her boisterous personality, the source of most noise complaints made by patrons, wears thigh high boots and short dresses to work, one of Aziraphale’s favorite gossips, pushing 50 but looks 35_

“He can probably hear you you silly cow,” Aziraphale hissed at her under his breath.

She batted her overly made-up eyes at him, the picture of innocence if he didn’t already know better. “A man like that knows the effect he has.”

“You say that now, my dear, but wait until you’re being reprimanded by God after he’s made a complaint.”

**_Frances, God:_ ** _okay she’s actually the branch manager, hasn’t been seen in years, sends super vague emails, “works from home”, never supports her staff the way she should, very neutral attitude_

Annette flapped her hands at him and jerked her head in a not so subtle manner to indicate their current choice of gossip was heading back to the desk.

Shades stood awkwardly between Aziraphale and Annette, clearly unsure about who he should go to. “Ngk.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Shades was going for a word with that noise but waved him over to his side of the desk anyway. “Oh good, you’ve found something! Just let me see your identification and I’ll get your account set up.”

Shades handed over his ID and placed the books in front of Aziraphale.

Committing Librarian Sin #1, Aziraphale glanced over the books. “These look lovely. Finding inspiration?”

Crowley lifted his shoulders in loose, apathetic way. “Yeah, s’my business. I teach botany over at the college but do some designing for the city sometimes. City planners don’t think outside the box,” he pointed at the books, “so I thought I’d take it back to basics.”

“What a shame they aren’t keen on more interesting plans, ah,” Aziraphale glanced at the ID, “Mr. Crowley.”

“Crowley. Please, no ‘mister’.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale said as he began to fill in the patron record fields.

“Aziraphale?” His coworker, Anathema, came up behind him. “Not to interrupt,” she gave a polite nod to Crowley, “but someone’s put another cat through the back book-drop.”

**_Anathema Device, library assistant:_ ** _has more money than God Herself but doesn’t want to sit at home wasting away, fantastic with patrons but always trying to read their palms or futures, witchy vibes_

“Again? That’s the third time this month!” He exclaimed. “I suppose we better call the animal control people?”

Anathema shook her head. “Julia’s taking this one home. Just thought you should know since you're in charge tonight.”

“But she's already taken the last three.”

“Yep, and I hate to ask how many she had before adding them to the mix.”

**_Julia, library assistant:_ ** _owns dozens of cats, habitually urinates in her own desk chair, never washes her hands after using the toilet, the reason why library staff can no longer have potlucks_

They shared a knowing look and Anathema went to the circulation side of the desk to relieve Beez.

**_Beez, library assistant:_ ** _nasty piece of work that neither staff nor patrons like, poorly done tattoos and piercings, wants to be a pin-up librarian stereotype but usually looks more like Ronald McDonald instead, lots of crying in the breakroom_

“Someone puts cats in your book-drop?”

Aziraphale's attention was brought back to Crowley and he quickly returned to finishing the patron record. “Ah, yes unfortunately. You know the park next door? People seem to consider it a dumping ground for their pets.”

Crowley scowled deeply. “Can’t you stop them?”

“We try, if we catch someone in the act.” He shrugged helplessly. “The authorities don’t consider it a priority so usually we just take the animals to a shelter or one of us adopts them. There’s also a feral colony living out there we try to take care of.”

“That’s very... _nice_ of you.” Crowley said ‘nice’ like it was a dirty word.

Aziraphale chuckled. “None of us are angels, but we do try to help where we can. Anyway, here is your receipt. Due date is listed at the bottom. I hope these help!”

Crowley gave him a small smile and gathered up his books. He paused as he turned to leave. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Aziraphale," He said with an answering smile. "I do hope you’ll find the library useful, Crowley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annette is real person (name changed) and yes she really is that over the top. 95% of noise complaints are made about library staff. We are not quiet people.  
> Julia was also a real person and her description is 100% true. I didn't change her name because she's dead now.  
> One of the supervisors did go on that rampage when she wasn't selected for a promotion. The job is cursed and they can't keep anyone in that position now.  
> Anathema is a combo of real people - do you know how many rich women love to get part time jobs in libraries for fun? None of them had witchy vibes though.  
> Beez is also based on a real person. Ugh.  
> Librarian Sin #1 - it is highly frowned upon to comment on what people are checking out. Privacy is a HUGE thing in libraries, so commenting on a book or movie someone is getting may make them feel judged (especially teens). Certain materials are fairly safe, like cookbooks or mystery novels, but never books on politics, religion, sex, or romance. That being said, we're all guilty of this sin.
> 
> And yes, people really would dump off their cats in our book drops, and most of the staff really did take them home whenever this happened. The library cat lady stereotype is real


	2. Bathroom Flute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank you all for the wonderful feedback! I am so appreciative of every compliment. This fandom is definitely the nicest, least drama-filled one I've ever belonged to. I've got almost all of each chapter written so I want to try to get a new one up every day.

“Aziraphale??!” 

“Oh hello, Crowley. Be with you in just a moment.” Aziraphale currently had his hands up near his head as crazy old man Shadwell pointed a pair of scissors at his throat. 

“ _Iwantbooksaboutkilli_ _ngwitcheswhydontyouhaveanyI_ _needthem_ _!_ ” 

Aziraphale frowned and lowered his hands. “Mr. Shadwell, we’ve discussed this before remember? We only carry books about historical witch burning cases.” 

Shadwell did not like this answer, and brandished the scissors closer, forcing Aziraphale to back up slightly. 

_“_ _FuckingpanseyIneedthosebooks_ _Iknowyouhavethem_ _!”_

“Sir, I’ve already told you we don’t have what you need. You’ll have to visit a bookstore for more specific materials.” Aziraphale sat back down in his chair and began typing nonsense into the computer to appear busy. “Please do put the scissors back on the desk. I have other patrons to assist.” 

Shadwell grumbled unkindly but did fling his weapon down (with a little more force than necessary) and tottered off toward the front door. 

Crowley approached, sliding his sunglasses on top of his head to give Aziraphale a disbelieving look. “You’re letting him go?” 

“If he’d done that to any other staff member, no. I just...hate to have him arrested.” Aziraphale smiled sadly. “Usually he’s quite lucid when he comes in, just very obsessed with witches, you see.” 

“First the cats, now giving scissors guy the benefit of the doubt. Guess that makes you some type of guardian angel,” Crowley said with a sly grin, clearly trying to make him feel better. 

Aziraphale felt himself blushing and wiggled in his seat. “Oh, absolutely not. I’d make a very bad angel indeed. I’ll probably have to ban poor Shadwell. I hate having to do so, but for safety’s sake we probably should.” 

Crowley glanced over at Sandalphon, the security guard, who was currently stuffing pop-tarts down his gullet and paying no nevermind to the happenings of the library. “Take it he’s not worth much?” 

**_Sandalphon_ ** **_, security guard:_ ** _extremely creepy to female staff and patrons, invites the younger male staff members to his house to camp in his backyard, constantly brings in milkshakes that are probably spiked with bodily fluids, claims to have at least 4 girlfriends, inexplicably liked by half the library staff_

Aziraphale lowered his voice to a whisper, forcing Crowley to lean in more closely. “Ha, I wish. No one else thinks so though. The only thing that one is good for is hitting on anyone who walks through the door.” 

Crowley huffed out a laugh, scenting the air around them with the smell of mint and a very alluring cologne. “What a way to keep you safe. He charm everyone into behaving?” 

Aziraphale snickered. “Heavens no. I don’t think Sandalphon could charm his way out of a paper bag.” 

“Aw, the guy can’t be all bad.” 

Madame Tracy and Hastur chose that precise moment to roll carts of books to be shelved past the security desk, directly in Sandalphon’s line of sight. 

“Hey Tracy,” he called out loudly. “Wanna lick the pop-tart jelly off my fingers?” 

**_Tracy, library page:_ ** _calls herself ‘Madame’ and makes everyone else do so too, dirty old lady, constantly says the most inappropriate things to patrons and coworkers, probably used to run a brothel, somehow adorably hilarious_

“I’d rather sleep with the dead duck someone put in the bathroom last week. No thank you.” Madame Tracy’s face was the picture of distaste as she headed toward the children’s section. Hastur waited for her to pass by him and then gave Sandalphon a coy wink and wave. 

**_Hastur_ ** **_, library page:_ ** _Smells of poo and d_ _ead animals, eats entire fruit_ _pies by himself in 15 minutes, always has uncovere_ _d food in his employee mailbox,_ _close_ _talker, steals staff newspaper to read spread out all over the floor while using the toilet, good friends with Madame Tracy_

Aziraphale stood. “One moment, Crowley. That sort of behavior requires a word.” 

He couldn’t hide the full body shiver that wracked his frame as he sat back down a few minutes later. 

“Bad experience, angel?” Crowley’s tone was light but his expression betrayed his concern. 

Aziraphale was too disgusted by the guard to even register the nickname. “You’ll have to excuse me if this crosses some kind of boundary, but I must say I have made my fair share of mistakes with men in my time but I will _never_ be so desperate for companionship to take that cretin up on any of his filthy suggestions.” 

Crowley’s sunglasses were still perched on his head so Aziraphale was able to confirm the surprise in his striking amber eyes. Damn his mouth. 

It wasn’t that Aziraphale was ashamed of his sexuality; quite the contrary, in fact. It just wasn’t something he went out of his way to mention to any of his patrons, especially considering the library was located in a fairly well-off, religious suburb. Tell someone you’re gay and you run the risk of getting a lecture about sin and hell, and he’d had quite enough of that growing up. 

The surprise in Crowley’s eyes could be read one of two ways: either he hadn’t expected Aziraphale to be gay, or he hadn’t expected him to be gay AND he was about to curse him in the name of the Almighty. 

“Ngk." Crowley cleared his throat. "I mean, me too…bad taste sometimes…in men.” 

Oh. 

It seemed Crowley was surprising Aziraphale as well tonight. The two stared awkwardly at each other from one heartbeat to the next, until an eerie melody began to bounce off the library walls and broke the spell. Aziraphale scrubbed a hand across his face in exasperation – tonight was not destined to be a quiet one. 

“Uh, does the library host concerts?” Crowley swiveled comically in place, attempting to figure out where the music was coming from. 

“No, I’m afraid this is the quirk of a staff member. Uriel likes to play flute in the bathroom because the acoustics are ‘righteous’. Occasionally they’ll play in the tree near the employee entrance.” 

**_Uriel, library assistant:_ ** _speaks two or three languages fluently, lives in a tent in their parents backyard with their partner and child, the ultimate hippie supreme, vibe is so calm patrons never get angry with them_ _, anti-deodorant enthusiast_

Aziraphale turned to Beez on the other side of the desk. “Beez, would you please go ask Uriel to play their flute outside? The study rooms are full tonight and I’m sure we’ll be getting complaints soon.” 

In true dramatic Beez fashion, she pulled her lips into a pout and contorted her body to a pose he supposed she thought might be sexy. In reality she looked like she needed to use the toilet. 

“But they always play in the men’s room.” She wrinkled her nose as though the idea were repulsive. “You can’t expect _me_ to go in _there_.” 

“My dear, please do not pretend like you don’t hide in there at least twice a day to play on your phone and complain to your mother about your pathetic love life. Please go do what I ask and I won’t tell Metatron to inform Frances of your habit.” 

Beez’s coy innocence became fury but she did as she was asked, stomping off to the staff area to speak to Uriel. 

“Is it always this...weird here?” Crowley flipped his sunglasses back down to cover his eyes but made no move to leave. 

Aziraphale allowed his eyes to wander around the space before answering. “Yes, and to be frank it’s usually much worse than this. Though you do seem to see more than most patrons.” 

“So, what're some of the best stories you’ve got? How crazy can it get?” Crowley leaned a hip against the desk as though he were getting comfortable. 

It made Aziraphale realize rather belatedly that he had been derelict in his duties. “Oh goodness, I never asked – do you need assistance with something? I was rather distracted by Shadwell and completely forgot.” 

Crowley did his apathetic shoulder roll again. “Nah, just returned those books I borrowed earlier. Saw you working, wanted to say thanks.” He leaned in a little closer. “Now quit changin’ the subject. Can’t tempt me with the possibility of stories and then not tell a few. S’rude.” 

Aziraphale made sure no one was waiting for help, then mirrored Crowley’s body language by leaning into the desk. “Well, it would be shameful of me to tempt in such a manner. I’m meant to be an angel after all.” He winked at Crowley before he could stop himself. “Now, where to start...Hmmm, yes, would you like to hear about the time I was told by a stranger that I am destined for Hell and then two months later she showed up here as a new employee?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone really did try to arrest our supervisor with a pair of scissors. They were promptly arrested though! 
> 
> We really did have a coworker who played his flute in the bathroom and in a tree. He was Earth Mother to the max. 
> 
> I was on the bus when I was in college and got into an argument with a girl over religion and how everyone who didn't believe what she believed was destined for hell. I shit you not, two months later she shows up as a new hire. She was not there very long. 
> 
> The Hastur and Madame Tracy descriptions are also real. I can't explain the horror of watching someone suck down an entire pie in less than 15 minutes.


	3. Going Commando

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always forgetting things in these notes - Sandalphon the security guard was based on a real guard and he did indeed ask my coworker to lick jelly off his fingers. Someone also managed to put a dead duck in the staff bathroom.
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for all the lovely comments and kudos! You know, I realized why Neil and Terry wrote the characters the way that they did. I was trying to match them up to the people I know in real life and it wasn't that hard :P Gabriel *the clothes horse and fitness guru who hands out unrequested dieting tips*? Yep, I bet we all know someone like that!

Crowley didn’t think he’d ever laughed this hard in his life.

“...the authorities arrive, and they find it’s a _man_ who’s locked himself in the stall of the ladies room! He’s still howling away in there and we could hear it all the way in the staff offices!” Aziraphale was shaking with mirth, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he recalled another ridiculous encounter with the general public.

Crowley wiped away his own tears. “Suddenly I don't feel so bad about the amount of students showing up to my classes hungover. 'Least they don't scream.”

Aziraphale hummed his amusement. “Ah, but that’s not even the end of the story!”

“Go on then, what happened next?”

Not even bothering to be quiet, Aziraphale continued, “They finally get the man out of the stall and need to check him for weapons. The officers begin patting him down without realizing he has no belt on his trousers, so of course their ministrations cause said trousers to slide right down to his knees. Guess what?”

Crowley’s eyes were as wide as a kid on Christmas morning. “What?” His anticipation was palpable.

“Weeelll....”Aziraphale enjoyed dragging it out. “Guess who was going, as the kids like to say, commando?”

“NO!” Crowley came close to shouting his disbelief, his jaw slack with genuine surprise.

“Yes!” Aziraphale crowed back. “That poor officer got a handful of a completely bare backside. I know because I sent Anathema out to watch. She saw everything.”

The pair dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“You two seem to be having a fine time.”

Aziraphale cringed before he could stop himself. Gabriel was one of their most obnoxious patrons. He only ever came in to check out fitness and dieting books, and more than once made cracks about Aziraphale’s appearance like it wasn’t a completely inappropriate thing to do.

Crowley glared at the man and slid over to the side of the desk to wait. It was something they were supposed to discourage but Aziraphale quite liked the company.

“You should smile more often, Aziraphale.” Gabriel – well, if Aziraphale wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel was leering at him.

No, that certainly couldn’t be right. Gabriel would never think about someone like him in any way other than pity. Those weren’t Aziraphale’s thoughts; Gabriel had practically said as much whenever he made some snide comment about his weight or his tartan bow-tie.

“Er, right. Good evening, Gabriel. Find everything you were looking for?” Aziraphale side-stepped Gabriel’s awkward flirtation, though it seemed tonight Gabriel wasn’t having it.

“Oh yes, but I’ve found something much better now that you’re in front of me.” Gabriel’s voice boomed across the library, leaving Aziraphale to wish he could crawl under the desk. He steadfastly ignored Crowley.

Aziraphale gave a polite laugh as he reached for Gabriel’s books. “Yes, most people feel the same way about checking out. Here to help, ha!” What twilight zone had Aziraphale entered tonight that would bring Gabriel flirting at his doorstep. He didn’t like it.

The cuff of Aziraphale’s shirt slid up slightly as he grabbed the books, inadvertently showing part of the tattoo on his forearm. Gabriel pounced before he knew what was happening, roughly shoving the sleeve up until the whole image was revealed.

He half dragged Aziraphale across the counter when he yanked his arm closer for inspection. “Well, well! What do we have here? I didn’t expect you to be such a rebel.” Gabriel’s clammy fingers traced the outline of the serpent of Eden coiling itself around an apple. It was a simple image but the color saturation made it a true standout piece. Call it cliché but access to information was the very foundation his profession was built on, and to Aziraphale that’s exactly what Eve eating the apple represented.

The wily serpent may have intended to cause some trouble but it also did humanity a very large favor.

Aziraphale yanked his arm out of Gabriel’s grasp. “Yes, librarians do have their secrets.” He quickly processed the books and resisted the urge to hurl them at their latest borrower. “Good day,” he said, his tone clipped and irritated. Gabriel didn’t seem fazed by the interaction but left, leaving Aziraphale to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Angel, I hate to tell you this but that man was flirting with you. Very badly.” Crowley’s voice held amusement but he was peering intently at Aziraphale, his sunglasses shoved down his nose so their eyes could meet.

Aziraphale flushed under the scrutiny. “It seemed that way, didn’t it?” He chuckled, trying to relieve whatever tension was holding Crowley’s face so still. “I’ve said it before, bad taste in men but not as bad as _that_. I shouldn’t speak so ill of a patron… but Gabriel is a nitwit.”

A tiny smile appeared on Crowley’s face. “Yeah? You wouldn’t go out with him?”

“Good Lord, no! Even if he weren’t so rude about my appearance normally, it would be completely inappropriate besides,” Aziraphale scoffed.

“Wait, wait.” Crowley held up one finger. “Number one, what does he say about your appearance?” Another finger went up. “Number two, why would it be inappropriate?”

Aziraphale held up one finger to mirror Crowley’s gesture. “It’d be inappropriate because I am at work. It's my job to be polite and to help, and sometimes that gets mistaken for interest. Someone might feel like they have to flirt with me to receive help. I never want a patron to feel like there is some kind of quid pro quo system going on.” He took a breath. “The more common occurrence is a patron mistakes their own gratitude for our help with interest. They don’t really want me, just the helpful idealized version I present to them. I believe it’s probably very common in the customer service industry.”

Pausing, Aziraphale gave a careless shrug. “As for Gabriel, he likes to tell me I’m too soft and that tartan is outdated. I find this ironic coming from someone who comes to the library in _sweatpants_ of all things.”

“That’s-he-what-how does he think that’s okay?!” Crowley sputtered indignantly. 

Aziraphale attempted a reassuring smile but it came out more like a pained grimace. “It happens more often than you think, to all of us.” He patted his stomach. “I’d rather eat the extra slice of cake, thank you very much. I’ve got no one to impress. _And_ tartan is stylish.”

Crowley was quiet, his hands jammed in his pockets and the toe of his expensive boot scuffing the carpet in front of him. “So you wouldn’t ever date a patron?” He blurted the words out like bullets.

Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow in consideration. “Um, I think not? I know I’d never feel comfortable making plans with someone while at work; it just sits wrong on my conscience and isn’t terribly appropriate for someone in charge.” He hesitated. “I think maybe if someone was genuine in their flirtations, and we happened to run into one another outside the library I might consider saying yes. Oh but really, that only happens in movies.” His accompanying laugh felt a little unhinged.

_Why – why – why - why -_

One word bounced around his head. Crowley couldn’t...possibly...be interested, right?

“By the way, angel, that’s a gorgeous tattoo. What made you get it?”

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought academic libraries were much less drama-filled than public. They probably are, but not the one I work in. I was working alone one Sunday when someone starts screaming from the toilets. The police had to come remove the guy and yep, they were checking for weapons when his jeans fell down to reveal no underpants. 
> 
> All of my coworkers with visible tattoos (very common in libraries, along with piercings and wild colored hair) have been touched at least once without permission. It probably happens everywhere but that was the first time I'd seen the public grabbing and touching so blithely.


	4. She's not walking on water

"Hullo, Angel.” 

May the Almighty strike him down for it but hearing those words was becoming an addiction to Aziraphale. It wasn’t so terrible to have a favorite patron, was it? 

_Look, but d_ _on’t touch_. 

“Good evening, Crowley!” Aziraphale knew his smile was a little on the beaming side but he couldn’t help himself. “Are you finished with your other books already?” 

“Nah, just thought I’d get more. Coming up on a bit of a break.” Crowley carefully set the books down on the desk, his shifting this time seemingly more from nerves rather than impatience. 

Aziraphale glanced at the titles- 

_Perfectly Oblivious_

_Hello, I like you_

_Flirting with boys_

_How to get past the awkward stage: dating when you’re older_

Aziraphale commented on the stack as he accepted Crowley’s card, “Bit different than usual, I see.” 

Before Crowley could answer, Aziraphale looked past him to find Newt hovering anxiously off to the side, his hands fluttering in a way that let him know something was amiss. 

“Yes, Newt? Is there an issue?” 

**_Newton_ ** **_Pulsifer_** ** _, library page:_ ** _no interest in libraries or reading whatsoever, only took this job to have spending money while he works on his computer engineering degree, completely rubbish with computers_

Newt scooted closer and said in a low voice, “Uh, well...there are – there are two people in the stacks, you see...” 

Aziraphale waved an impatient hand. “Get on with it, Newt. Do I have to call the guard or the proper authorities?” 

Newt’s eyes flickered between Aziraphale and Crowley, like he was embarrassed to say the words in front of a stranger. “Erm, see I’m not sure. They’re...well, she’s walking on him.” 

Aziraphale stared at the young man. “ _Who_ is doing _what_ now?” 

Newt’s expression was the picture of frustration. “There’s a man and woman in white robes, like togas or something. He’s laying down in the audiobooks and she’s walking on his back.” 

“Saints preserve us, what will they do next.” Aziraphale shoved himself to his feet. “I’ll handle it myself, Newt. Good lad. Excuse me, Crowley, be back in a tick.” 

A few moments later, Aziraphale trailed out behind a disgruntled looking couple in yes, white togas. They went through the front entrance to leave and Aziraphale made his way back to Crowley. 

“So sorry about the interruption. I am all for a zen lifestyle but this not the place to try such things.” He sat down and processed Crowley’s books. “I suppose I ought to be grateful they weren’t having relations.” 

“People actually do _THAT_ here?” Crowley was so shocked it was comical. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “They certainly try. If they knew how absolutely filthy this place is I doubt they’d be so keen on trying it.” 

“What were they doing then?” 

Aziraphale grimaced. “They said some type of yoga.” Crowley made a strangled noise of disbelief. “Yes I agree, but I didn’t ask for details. Just told them you have to wear shoes and walking on someone is a safety liability.” 

“Is it?” Crowley asked. 

“I have no idea. They believed me and left, so I’d call that a victory. I’ve seen them at the natural grocers down the street though, might make shopping a little awkward in the future.” 

The two men grinned at each other. 

Crowley cleared his throat. “I guess I’ll be off.” 

Aziraphale gave a dorky little wave and hummed softly to himself until a snort came from beside him. 

“Are you two going to date already or what?” Anathema was the picture of exasperation next to him. 

“My dear girl, that was good customer service. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Anathema clicked her tongue. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Did you see those books he checked out? Earth to Aziraphale, that was book flirting.” 

Aziraphale made a rude noise in response. “Anathema, you’re being ridiculous.” 

“I am not and you know it. Let’s look at the evidence, shall we? He comes in every Thursday, also known as the night you work- 

“It’s probably the most convenient night for his schedule…“ 

“-he only goes to you for help-“ 

“…we all have our regulars…” 

“-he’s spent nearly an hour each time talking to you-“ 

“…well, we have become rather friendly…” 

“-did you see the titles he picked today? He’s never taken anything other than gardening books before-“ 

“…people can branch out of their comfort zone, dear…” 

“-and he stares at you like he’s just waiting to run away to the stars with you.” Anathema finished her list triumphantly. 

“You can’t possibly know that! He always wears his sunglasses.” Aziraphale felt himself blushing at the last item she listed. He didn’t like to consider himself a romantic but she made it sound so lovely. 

“I can absolutely tell. He looks at you the same way Newt looks at me,” She said smugly. 

Aziraphale felt his mouth drop open slightly. “You and Newt?” 

She shook her head. “No, not yet. But most likely. He has a nice aura. So does your Crowley.” 

“He’s not _my_ anything, and you know how much I hate when you get fanciful about auras. I damn well can’t risk everything based on a non-existent aura,” Aziraphale snapped. 

Anathema raised her hands in surrender. “Fine! Fine. I'm just telling you what I see between the two of you, auras aside. Call me a liar, don’t be happy.” She turned back to her computer and continued mumbling under her breath. 

Aziraphale let her go on for a moment before laying an apologetic hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, my dear. Your heart is in the right place but I know what's best for myself.” He gave a her a quick pat. “Now tell me about you and Newt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did have people come in and walk on each other in the stacks. In togas. It was WEIRD.
> 
> The list of books Crowley picks up are real (except for the dating one) but I have no idea if they're good. I just found it hilarious that they exist and I like the idea of an awkward Crowley flirting with books. Never had anyone do that before. 
> 
> Also please do not believe library 'relations' is sexy. People urinate and defecate everywhereeeee (not just kids). Not to mention the amount of books that come back covered in vomit or blood. Library sex would be decidedly unsexy.


	5. Dear Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally! We had a two week break for the holidays at work and just went back this week. Hooray for small medical libraries! I'm finally awake enough to post this next chapter. One more left! I'm not so sure how a little humorous fic of library stories blew up to what will be over 7,000 words. I'll probably have this finished by Saturday.
> 
> Bit of warning on this one - there are mentions of an adult attacking a child (false accusations), mental illness, and homelessness. It's nothing extreme but I don't want to bring up negative emotions by surprise.

The woman standing in front of Aziraphale simply wouldn’t listen, and it was forcing him to leave his slice of angel cake to dry out. 

“I’m sorry but no, it’s simply not feasible to walk that far. It’s dangerous.” He tried to keep his voice level and calm but his agitation was bubbling near the surface. 

“I just need the map. Can’t you print me a map?” She stumbled over her words, shifting the sleeping bag on her back around restlessly. “I can make it.” 

Aziraphale shook his head emphatically. “My dear lady, there is no clear walking path to a city that’s 2 hours away by car. It is _dark_ outside.” He paused, giving her time to process his words. “I’m certain there is a bus you could take there. We can set you up on the computer, show you how to get a ticket?” 

But the woman was already backing away from the desk, waving his suggestions away. Hopefully she wouldn’t attempt such a dangerous stunt on her own. He couldn’t win them all. 

Aziraphale picked up his angel cake and poked at it unenthusiastically. 

“A guardian angel eating angel cake, how ‘bout that.” Crowley’s drawl broke through his melancholy. “Special occasion?” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, a co-worker was thoughtful enough to bake it for everyone. It’s quite funny – libraries always seem to have an endless supply of food.” 

“Something wrong, angel?” 

“I-I...” Aziraphale was used to the nickname Crowley gave him by now, but in that moment it felt unbearably tender. He cleared his throat and gathered his wits. “I’ve been in libraries for 18 years and I guess I’ll just never get used to being undertrained for my job.” 

“How so?” 

Aziraphale realized he was practically whining to an almost stranger, to a _patron, a_ o _h how embarrassing._

“It’s so kind of you to ask, dear boy, but you needn’t hear the ramblings of a tired old librarian.” 

“No, I really do want to kn-” A commotion came from the lobby at that precise moment, leaving Aziraphale unsure of what Crowley was about to say. 

Miraculously, Sandalphon was up and out of his seat, heading to see what was going on without prompting. When he didn’t immediately return, Aziraphale turned back to Crowley. “My dear, you best get Anathema to check you out. I need to see what’s going on.” He didn’t even realize Crowley hadn’t brought books up to the desk. 

The commotion was more than typical chaos this time. The woman who had inquired about a map was accusing a man of attacking a young child in the restroom, screaming in the lobby and demanding his arrest. It took over an hour to sort out that the man was the girl’s father and had simply taken her to the toilet. The man’s wife rushed to the library, where she had to be physically restrained away from her husband’s accuser, and then the authorities came to finish handling the whole debacle. 

Being the librarian in charge, Aziraphale told the officers about the woman's request for walking directions and how apparently she’d been in other parts of the library acting oddly (reported by other staff members once they realized who was making accusations). In the end, the unstable woman was taken in to custody for causing a disturbance and the shaken family released to go home. 

Aziraphale sighed deeply as he made his way back to the desk, where he found Anathema blocking the way. “You’ve haven’t taken your break yet. I can handle the reference side of things.” 

“I’d best stay, but thank you. Who knows what else will happen tonight.” A break sounded divine but Aziraphale didn’t want to chance being away while his staff needed him. 

Anathema nudged him gently, looking over his shoulder. “I’d say your night is about to perk up if you’d let it.” 

He followed her eyes to find Crowley standing close by, a cardboard cup dangling from his hand. “Got time for a break, angel?” 

“I…really shouldn’t,” He said hesitantly, and looked again to Anathema. She made another shooing motion and Aziraphale felt his resolve crumble. 

“On second thought, I think that sounds like a fine idea. We’ll be in the break room if anyone needs me,” He said, before gesturing that Crowley should follow him. Down the hall they went, through the staff area and into the breakroom, where Aziraphale kept going. They had their own private outside space and the nights weren’t too cold yet to sit under the stars. 

They settled at a stone picnic bench and Crowley slid one the cups he had been holding across the way to sit in front of Aziraphale. “Didn’t think you’d like coffee this late at night, so I went for cocoa. You seem like a cocoa person anyway. Hope that’s alright.” 

Aziraphale nodded absently. “Yes, thank you. It is a very sweet gesture. I-” 

“Is that what you meant by being underprepared for your job?” Crowley interrupted. 

“I-I...yes, it’s a big part of it.” Aziraphale popped the lid from his cocoa so it would cool more quickly. “You really don’t have to ask about it, dearest.” 

Crowley gave Aziraphale his best glower. “You don’t always have to be so put together.” 

“What would you like to hear? That I came here believing I could instill and foster a love of reading in people, but instead am basically a glorified babysitter of adults so incompetent I can’t fathom how they get out of bed and go to work in the morning?” Aziraphale was working very hard not to explode and failing miserably. “That I have a Master's Degree in Library Science but am now expected to be a social worker, with no training and no resources?” 

Aziraphale slid away from the bench and began pacing. Crowley sat watching him, seemingly content to just let him rant. “It’s career whiplash, is what it is. One minute I’m told all I do is sit and read all day, and the next minute I’m being told I need to solve the problems of every mentally ill and homeless patron who walks through the door. If I wanted to help society in such a capacity, I would have chosen that field of study!” 

“I’ve told you I’m no angel, Crowley, I’m really not. I resent anyone who tells me I don’t care enough and that I should expect to assist my community in any way they need. I _can_ do that but with _information_ ; I can’t hold their hands and walk them through it like children. I can’t fill out their job applications and create their résumé for them, can’t turn my already underfunded and understaffed workplace in a shelter.” 

“And I hate myself for thinking that way. It’s really only by luck that I have never found myself on the street or living in a shelter, or a car. I’ve never had to worry about where my next meal would come from. ‘There but for the grace of God go I’, you understand? So how can I be so cruel and heartless to those who are no different than I am, other than they have not had the same opportunities that I have?” 

“Why stay?” Crowley asked quietly. 

Aziraphale met Crowley’s eyes at last. He couldn’t detect any judgement, only sincere curiosity. “Because despite these terrible thoughts, I love my job. I love my patrons. Even when someone is asking the stupidest question it makes me happy to know I am helping, no matter how small an issue it may be. I like watching them walk out the door less intimidated by the library, knowing we would never belittle them and that we genuinely want them to succeed.” 

“When I’m not angry about the red tape and the politics holding us back, I can see the bigger picture and I have such hope for how much the library can do for society. Even if it’s just a better, more inclusive collection – I want to be part of it. Many of my coworkers sort of...fell into their jobs here, but they stay even though it wasn’t their first career choice. We all stay because though we might go crazy some days, it’s worth it.” 

Aziraphale released a very pent up breath. How does one rant but not breathe at the same time? 

He sat back down at the bench, primly sipping at his now cold cocoa. “Was that less ‘put together’ enough for you?” 

Crowley stared at him hard for a long moment, then gave his usual cheeky grin. “You’re a bit of a bastard, you know that?” 

Aziraphale groaned in to his cup. “Yes, I am sufficiently aware. And it must be said that you are a bit of a nic-” 

“Do not call me nice, angel. Don’t you dare.” Crowley growled. “My students find out I’m nice, there’ll be no living with them.” 

“Right, right – mustn't tarnish your dastardly reputation.” Aziraphale laughed. “Oh dear, you’ve let me prattle on for far too long. I best be getting back to Anathema. I...thank you.” 

“For what?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale gestured widely. “For this, for allowing me to clear my head so I wouldn’t take my foul mood out on innocent patrons.” 

“I’m not an innocent patron?” 

“I’m afraid not, my dear. You’re not innocent I dare say, and you’re no longer a patron. You’ve become a very dear friend. Now, come along with me and we’ll head back.” 

Crowley stared at him pensively. “Nah, that’s okay. I can let myself out here.” He pointed to the side gate nearby. 

Aziraphale nodded. “If that’s what you prefer, dear.” 

Aziraphale had the door to the building open before he heard a throat clearing behind him. “Aziraphale?” 

“Yes, Crowley?” 

“Dear friends can ask each other out to lunch sometime, can’t they?” 

Aziraphale hesitated only slightly. “I don’t see why not.” 

“What about dinner?” Crowley asked next. 

“Ah, um. Yes, that’s...probably just fine too.” 

“The theater? A concert? The movies?” 

Aziraphale was stammering, grateful the darkness hid his pink cheeks. “Yes.” It came out high and squeaky. 

“Okay then. See you soon.” Crowley turned and slipped through the gate. 

Aziraphale stood half in and out of the building for another five minutes, amused frustration tearing at his heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did indeed have a woman try to get a map from us to walk to another major city, and then she did accuse a father of attacking his own child. It was INSANE. We felt so bad for his family. The accusation was so abrupt and out of nowhere that it shook us all up. 
> 
> Ah, I see the therapy in projecting on Aziraphale here. What he rails about are some of the most common things I see when speaking with others who work in libraries. It can be rough, and I know I'm already jaded and cynical. There's a lot of drinking and drug abuse among the staff in the libraries where I've worked. 
> 
> I don't want anyone to think Crowley blew off Aziraphale's complaints. Many nights at work were spent in the outdoor space just ranting about the job. Sometimes you just want to complain, not look for a solution.


	6. Rum soaked angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a good deal of this fic emphasizing how difficult library work can be, and then spent my entire shift today doing nothing but writing this final chapter. Eh, it's not like anyone but the guy who likes to print off vintage car ads came in today. I was surprised to see him - last time we spoke he was standing in the middle of the library shouting about how he'll never come back because we won't print for him. Bye Felicia. 
> 
> I hope this final chapter doesn't disappoint - we're heading outside the library!

_ Two days later _

Aziraphale stared at the choices in front of him. Should he go with the especially dark hot chocolate, the one that tasted delicious with a splash of rum (more than a few splashes, really), or should he stick with the lighter mint flavored version? If he went with the dark chocolate he’d have to stop for rum before heading home, and he just knew he would get lost in the wine selections if he did that. It wasn’t even quite lunch time yet – what were the proper societal protocols for going to a liquor store at this hour? How much alcohol could you buy without raising eyebrows? Maybe he should just go look at cheese before deciding anything major, though cheese selection in itself could become an all-day event.

“You  waitin ’ for it to do a trick, angel?” A familiar drawl came from behind him, startling him out of his  reverie . 

“ Wh -what?”  Aziraphale stammered, completely caught off guard. 

Crowley grinned at him as though he knew why  Aziraphale was flustered and gestured to the tins. “You were staring so hard I thought maybe they were  gonna do a trick.” 

“Ah, um...Rum.”  Aziraphale winced as he forgot how to form a complete sentence. At work he was confident and sure of his place in this world. Taking charge was no problem and he could command a small amount of respect from the majority of the people there. He fit the space.

Outside of work, well,  Aziraphale knew his fussy habits and uptight mannerisms weren’t considered quite so cute. That was probably the real reason why he never considered dating a patron, and he was too damn old pretend to be anything other than a persnickety bookworm. He just couldn’t stand seeing that ‘oh I thought you were different’ look on someone’s face. 

Especially if that someone were Crowley.

But Crowley didn’t seem to mind  Aziraphale’s inability to communicate. He shoved his glasses up to perch on his forehead and leaned up against the shelf, staring hard at the tins in front of  him. Then he reared back and tapped his chin with one finger. 

“I don’t think those contain rum. Is that the trick you were waiting for?” Crowley’s eyes widened in exaggerated excitement. “Maybe you really are an angel! Instead of water to wine, you turn chocolate to rum.” He winked at  Aziraphale . “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“You’re being absolutely silly, my dear.”  Aziraphale allowed himself to mirror Crowley’s easy smirk. “Only some kind of low-rent valentine's day cherub would miracle up rum. Proper angels would whip up cognac or the like.” Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all. Something about Crowley made him feel comfortable, even outside of work. 

“Angel, I hope you’re aware putting cognac in hot chocolate is demon behavior.”  Crowley's side-eye scold was rather impressive. 

Aziraphale cast his eyes down to the floor in mock shame. “Oh dear, does this mean I can’t keep my current nickname?” 

“’ Fraid not.” Crowley gave his best 'what am I going to do with you' sigh. “We should get food, sort the whole thing out right now.”

“ Oh but you never invited me to brunch. You mentioned lunch, and dinner, and the theater, but never brunch.” 

“You’re much too unruly to be an angel. How did I ever give you that name?” Crowley rolled his eyes playfully. “Put your basket down and we’ll go. I’ve got a place in mind.”

“Crowley, I can’t just leave a half full basket sitting around!” Aziraphale hated it when things got dumped off at his own job. He couldn't do that to others. 

“C’mon  Aziraphale .  _ Angel _ . You don’t really want to put all those items back, do you?” Crowley pouted. 

Aziraphale swatted his arm. “It would be so dreadfully rude of  me not to. No, I won’t do it.” He glanced coyly over at Crowley. “It would go so much faster if you’d help me, though.”

“No, angel. No. You don’t even have that much!” Aziraphale batted his eyelashes at his companion. “No, I said! Okay, okay fine. You take the perishables and I’ll finish the rest of the basket. Happy?” 

Crowley fished out the few things that belonged in the refrigerator section and shoved them into  Aziraphale’s hands, then nearly melted to the floor when a pair of lips met his cheek. 

“Thank you, dear.”  Aziraphale strode away, leaving Crowley gaping after him. As soon as he was out of sight, Crowley moved around to an empty aisle and proceeded to stuff the entire basket onto a shelf, hiding it behind a display of quinoa and black bean snacks. 

“Angel!” Crowley called. “Angel, are you ready to go?” 

Aziraphale heard Crowley calling but his attention had been snapped up by one of his favorite employees of the store.  “Yes, Mr. Fell. The man had sunglasses and very tight black pants, wanted to know when you’d be by again.” Leslie heard Crowley yelling and turned. “Oh, good! He found you.”

“Found me?”  Aziraphale echoed. 

“Found you?” Crowley caught that last bit, glanced over at the girl, and immediately flushed bright red. 

“Yes! Did he return your book?” Leslie chirped brightly, glancing back and forth between the pair. 

“My book? Dear girl, whatever are you talking about?”  Aziraphale couldn’t hide the very wicked, very amused glint in is eye. Crowley was steadfastly looking everywhere but at Aziraphale.

“He said he had a book to return to you, Mr. Fell. I told him today is your usual day to come in.” Leslie looked uneasy now, her happy smile fading slightly. 

“Crowley, have you been  _ stalking _ me?”  Aziraphale tried with all his might to make his tone sound scandalized, but he could barely speak the words without his laughter bubbling over. 

“No!” Crowley finally lifted his gaze, amber eyes meeting blue. “It’s not like that, I swear.  Yo -you mentioned this place remember? Thought I’d come check it out one day.  Ya’know . Um.” 

“Should I call the police?” Leslie was fully alarmed now, aware that she may have done something wrong.  Poor girl. 

Aziraphale patted her on the arm. “No, no. I don’t recommend offering up such information to customers in the future, but just for today I’m very glad you did.”

Crowley stared at him disbelievingly. “You’re not mad?”

Aziraphale tipped his head back and gave an undignified hoot. “I should be, but I did tell you I’d only accept an invitation outside of the library.” He brushed past Leslie and laid his hand on Crowley’s elbow, putting enough pressure in to it to force Crowley in to motion. “At least this way I know what your intentions are.” 

He guided Crowley outside and looped their arms together. “Now tell me, my dear, what did you have in mind for nibbles? Someplace with mimosas, I dare hope.” 

Crowley flipped his sunglasses down to cover his eyes, tightened his hold on  Aziraphale’s arm, and thanked his lucky stars for the library. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who commented or left kudos or bookmarked/subscribed to this silly little nothing of a story. I've got a few other ideas rattling around in my head but a lot of what I like to write leans toward fantasy or horror and I don't know if I have the energy to push out anything close to what I've done in the past. I definitely need to reread GO before proceeding with anything. 
> 
> I also really enjoyed writing a confident Aziraphale. "You go too fast for me" is rather romantic but I liked letting him move at a faster pace. Go get your demon, angel boy!


End file.
